Promises, Promises
by obsessive
Summary: Anakin's thoughts on fathers and sons. R/R Update: Parallel with Padmé
1. Chapter 1: Anakin

Promises, Promises  
  
Hi! Thanks to everyone who reviewed Love is Blind.  
  
This fic is from Anakin's POV, and it takes place when he is about 13 years old. I'm still new at this but I'm trying! Actually, the Dark side gave me writer's block, but I used the Force to get an idea. (I'm not kidding, this came to me in my sleep!) Anyway, R/R: I want to know what you think, because I might write a sequel.  
  
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.  
  
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A few days ago, Master Obi-wan smiled at me and said I was like the son he never had. This got me thinking about my own family, or lack of it. I still miss my mom, even though I haven't seen her for four years and I'm a little too old to be missing her. She was the only family I ever had. I never had a father, and I still haven't accepted it. Qui-Gon was like a father to me for a short time. I remember how he fought for me against the Council, how he took me everywhere even though I was a little annoying, how he had faith in me, and how he protected me until the very end. But then he died, and I miss him the way I miss my mom, but worse. She is still alive and he is not. At times I feel guilty, but it isn't all that bad. I think he has contact with me. Sometimes I see him in my dreams, leading me.  
  
But back to my point. I can't say my master is like the father I never had, though it would have been a nice thing to say there. It would be lying, and I just don't think of him, or anyone that way. After Qui-Gon's death, I learned that I can't rely on a father figure to take the position of a father, because anything can happen, especially in the dangerous world we live in. I don't want to go through that pain again. Although I haven't accepted that I don't have a father, I can't simply get one; it has already been decided for me. But it hasn't been decided yet for everyone else.  
  
When I have a son, I will be the father I never had for him. I will care for him, protect him from the world, and love him. My son will have a real father to trust, look up to, learn from, and do everything I can't do because I don't have one. He won't have to be afraid all the time, because I will be there to help him every step of the way. And I won't die on him. I can't, it wouldn't be fair. No child should have to go through that, but it happens. I don't want it to happen to my son. He will always be more important than being a jedi or "killing the bad guys." Even though I want to be a powerful jedi and I want to be feared by the Dark side, I don't want my son to fear me. He should respect, but never fear me, because nothing good comes out of that. I should know.  
  
It seems like this dream will never come true, but I want it to more than anything else. Because if it happens, when it happens, two things will change. I will have the father I never had in myself, and just one more kid will be able to call someone "Dad" and mean it.  
  
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Well there's nothing left to do except scroll down and review! I hope you enjoyed it. 


	2. Chapter 2: Padmé

(b)Promises, Promises(/b)  
  
Hi again, cyber people! This time, I'm writing Padmé's thoughts on mothers and daughters. This occurs before TPM, so she's 13, just like Anakin is when he's writing the first chapter (I love the idea of having the characters with me when I write!). Again I'm not being sexist about the father/son and mother/daughter thing, it just has to be that way for this fic. Just one more thing: I don't know how much about Padmé's family, so I made it up basically. OK, I'm gonna write now, that's what I came here to do. Please review, you don't have to say anything profound, just your reaction so I know if I'm doing something right or wrong.  
  
Disclaimer: Nope, nothing changed between a few days ago and today, I still don't own them.  
  
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Sooo… the handmaidens are braiding my hair. It isn't that I don't like my hair, I love it actually, it's the only thing about myself I'm never conscious of, glancing into a mirror every five seconds to check. I just can't stand this ritual. They brush my hair, twist it, contort it, all without saying a word. Doesn't anyone think I get lonely? I have no friends to confide in, nobody to simply laugh with, and nobody realizes I'm just 13!  
  
Nobody knows me for who I am, they just think of me as the queen. They know Queen Amidala, but not Padmé. I need someone to talk to. I have a family, that's true, but they are just as bad as everyone else, not bothering to get to know the real me. And the best example of this is that my mother has never braided my hair. After all this time, not once. I asked her to do it when I was ten years old, and she said it was handmaiden work. Se called one of them in, but I said I didn't care anymore, and I did it alone, silently. I was tearfully disappointed. I had been wishing she would come, brush in hand, and gently fix my hair, her hands moving softly and lovingly through my knotted waves; the whole time talking with me. I wanted her to know me, understand me, and love me because she wanted to and not just because I was her daughter. And I hoped to get to know her too, because I actually don't know much about my mother. But she said no, and that was that. My desire for that relationship never faded and I need it now more than ever, because my life is growing more complicated everyday. But no means no, and forever no, and it is the same with everyone else.  
  
Someday, the woman in my dream fixing her daughter's hair out of love, not obligation will be me. If I can't be the daughter, I'll be the mother in the picture. I want my daughter to be like me, so I can fix for her what I never had. Even if she is royal, she won't have the hard time I have had. I will make sure she gets to have a normal life, with friends and family to break the quiet, regal atmosphere of being royalty. The handmaidens will not raise her like they raised me. Come to think of it, maybe there won't even be handmaidens. Whatever happens, though, nobody will raise my child except me (and her father). I don't want anyone to judge her for being royalty they way they judge me. Once, somebody, I think it was a handmaiden sarcastically called me "your worship." After I practically bit my tongue off, I was really angry. It perfectly proved my point that nobody knows me for who I am. But that won't happen to my daughter. She'll have what I don't have: people who love her. And no matter what happens, she will never have to braid her hair in silence. Because I'll be there.  
  
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This was a lot of fun to write, even though I should be doing other things… *looks around guiltily* What I'm trying to say is that I feel very comfortable in Padmé's character.  
  
: ) To anyone who's still here reading this! 


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